A short Summary : This is a series of stories on "the ordinary women" whose lives are/were interconnected, some more - some less....they are based on one or more events that affected/changed their lives...
The stories are true as far as the plot or gist of the matter go....the wordplay is the author's portrayal....
She paused at the doorstep...looking back at the room once more. Everything was as she had left it two months ago....the curtains, the dining table she begged and begged for months and finally got, her favourite couch rich blue with silver trimmings, a favourite with the only three neighbours who passed his test (well most of the time at least).
The light blue sofa still stood, a mute majestic witness to the torment sessions, mental and emotional, countless endured to the point of a breakdown, the humiliations, the constant put downs that still sent cold shivers down her spine.
His high pitched voice with a maniac quality echoed in her brain, cold swept all over her, the heart pounding at an inhuman rate...the well recognised signs of a panic attack. She took deep breathes the way her doctor has taught her, clutched a chair for support and moved to gather her few precious belongings, a culmination of six wasted years.
Every piece of cloth, a book here, a C.D there, remainders of the few happy moments she had managed to gather and salvage from the wreck that was her marriage. Her bags packed, she glanced at the house for one last time ....
The house she had tried in vain to make a home but dimly realised now was never hers to begin with. The house now stood for only loss : loss of innocence, loss of her unborn child, loss of hope, loss of dignity, loss of self worth and the greatest loss, one that would haunt her for years to come, loss of the will to live.
The lift stopped , her and bags deposited to the ground floor, the safety zone...as she turned to hug and wave at her few friends, the only ones that would miss her...never him, never him..
She saw at last in the afternoon sun....behind her stood the skyscraper tall, looming and lonely ....before her stood her mother and the cab, her ticket to freedom bought at a bitter price.
She walked with a spring in her step, a tiny smile, a smile none the less that threatened to break out of the gloom, knowing that though the road ahead was not easy, too many battles still to be fought.... He could never hurt her again.....
Wc 383 to add a 100 odd words.
The stories are true as far as the plot or gist of the matter go....the wordplay is the author's portrayal....
Apologies to any one who finds her story here.... Unfortunately, this one is mine....
She paused at the doorstep...looking back at the room once more. Everything was as she had left it two months ago....the curtains, the dining table she begged and begged for months and finally got, her favourite couch rich blue with silver trimmings, a favourite with the only three neighbours who passed his test (well most of the time at least).
The light blue sofa still stood, a mute majestic witness to the torment sessions, mental and emotional, countless endured to the point of a breakdown, the humiliations, the constant put downs that still sent cold shivers down her spine.
His high pitched voice with a maniac quality echoed in her brain, cold swept all over her, the heart pounding at an inhuman rate...the well recognised signs of a panic attack. She took deep breathes the way her doctor has taught her, clutched a chair for support and moved to gather her few precious belongings, a culmination of six wasted years.
Every piece of cloth, a book here, a C.D there, remainders of the few happy moments she had managed to gather and salvage from the wreck that was her marriage. Her bags packed, she glanced at the house for one last time ....
The house she had tried in vain to make a home but dimly realised now was never hers to begin with. The house now stood for only loss : loss of innocence, loss of her unborn child, loss of hope, loss of dignity, loss of self worth and the greatest loss, one that would haunt her for years to come, loss of the will to live.
The lift stopped , her and bags deposited to the ground floor, the safety zone...as she turned to hug and wave at her few friends, the only ones that would miss her...never him, never him..
She saw at last in the afternoon sun....behind her stood the skyscraper tall, looming and lonely ....before her stood her mother and the cab, her ticket to freedom bought at a bitter price.
She walked with a spring in her step, a tiny smile, a smile none the less that threatened to break out of the gloom, knowing that though the road ahead was not easy, too many battles still to be fought.... He could never hurt her again.....
Wc 383 to add a 100 odd words.
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Glad you made it this far...would love to hear your take on the words scribbled. A comment every now and then keeps the blues away. :D
Since, crazy Mr. Blogspot won't let me reply to the comments here (is upset with the water ladies ever since they refused to verify visitors)...will do the next best thing, drop in to your blog to say my Vanakkam/Namaste/Salaam/Hello.